


Where are you going? (Where do you go?)

by DesdemonaSighs



Series: But I do know one thing (is where you are is where I belong) [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: I thought it was sweet???, M/M, Schmoop, what happens when I get inspiration at coffee bean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 19:51:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesdemonaSighs/pseuds/DesdemonaSighs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"And I know that wherever you go, I will follow. I don't know a lot, but I do know that where you go is where I want to be."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where are you going? (Where do you go?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my best friend Liana](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+best+friend+Liana).



_"I am no superman, I have no reasons for you. I am no hero, ah, that's for sure, but I do know one thing._  
Where you are is where I belong.  
I do know where you go is where I wanna be." 

I watch as you run a hand through black hair, tugging on the ends absentmindedly in an attempt to straighten yourself out. I don't know why you try; you'll never be able to tame the mess of dark curls without a high power blow dryer and a can of hairspray, but I don't mind much. I love the way you look when you just awake, sleepy and soft and innocent. You don't always look like this, which I don't mind either, but I want to savor the small glimpse you allow me to see of your most vulnerable state. Not just anyone gets to see you like this. That I don't mind at all. 

You stretch and I watch the hard muscles of your back come to life. I ponder for a short second how much you must work out to look the way you look. I don't care much for bulkiness, but you are slender in a strong way and I feel oddly safe because of that fact. I want more than anything to just reach out and touch the curve of your spine, to run my fingers along every disc in your back and memorize the feel of your skin under my finger tips. That wouldn't be appropriate, though. I stop myself before the itch to caress you overtakes me like it sometimes does. 

Your eyes seem paler in the moonlight than they usually do. What's the last color in the spectrum to wash out in darkness? I've never been very good with the rod cells and the cone cells, which is actually a very bad thought to have considering I'm a doctor. I'll have to ask you later when you're truly awake. Maybe you'll know. Maybe you deleted it from your hard drive. 

You finally notice me, perched on the edge of the bed you hardly ever occupy. It's a mess in the room and I make a mental note to clean up later. I get a small jolt of pleasure knowing you allow me to organize your things now. Not that you had much choice in the first place. You smile easily, the sort of sleepy smile that makes my insides flip flop and my palms begin to sweat. I gaze longingly at your lips, the emphasized Cupid's bow and the full bottom lip make my mouth water lustfully. I dig into the back of my mind and carefully extract my favorite memory which I have preserved and coddled after all this time: the kiss. An experiment I had thought at first, like all the others. I didn't resist when you leaned forward, crossing the threshold between us that had always seemed like a million miles wide to me. It was really just the space of the backseat of a cab, and you bulldozed down the wall I had always imagined between us within seconds. I thought it was all for bloody _science_. Maybe I had been the only one who saw the line in the sand, the boundary that wasn't actually there for you. You had pulled away and whispered against my lips, breathless and utterly pleased with yourself. _John, I am allowing you to love me. Do as you must, but you may never leave me. Where you are is where I must be._ It wasn't an experiment. 

And ever since then, I have come tumbling down. I've never fallen so hard. I'm grasping on for dear life most of the time, filled with longing and want and _love_. For my best mate. For you. 

You lift a hand, long fingers seeming almost luminescent in the pale light of the moon, and touch my face. I automatically lean into your palm, and I don't intend for the soft whimper to leave my lips, but it does. You trail a path along my jaw and I close my eyes, attempting to memorize the feeling of the pads of your fingers skidding down my neck. It's euphoric. I wonder if everyone feels this way while being touched. I'm pretty sure it's just you who makes people feel so good. You're magically. People seem to be jealous of your intellect. They hate your sharp tongue and your fearless eyes. You would be glad to know that I don't agree with any of them, because I love every single thing about you. I always have. You're brilliant. 

I open my eyes and look at you. Just look at you. You are the most beautiful creature to ever stumble across my path. There are so many things I want to say. __

Don't ever change.

Please never get bored of me. 

I need you. 

I have always been yours. 

I love you. 

But, I don't want to break the moment. The fragile something that's rippling between us as your hands slide down my chest. It would be a crime. I can't say all the things that are burning on my tongue. I think you might already know all of them, though. I've never said the words out loud, but I wouldn't be surprised if you have managed to deduce your way through my mind. I would gladly expose my every inner working to you, but it's not necessary. Not with you. 

You lean forward and my breath catches in my throat. After all this time, you still manage to surprise me. I'm waiting for the day you get exhausted of me and drop me like you drop all the things that don't satisfy your untamable boredom. I'm waiting for the day you walk away from me and leave me all alone. When your lips meet mine, gentle and loving, I know that day will never come. 

And I know that wherever you go, I will follow. I don't know a lot, but I do know that where you go is where I want to be.

**Author's Note:**

> In which I get antsy at Coffee Bean and decide to write some fluff. Don't hit me, I bruise easily.


End file.
